Page 10 of Tangled Souls
Kirill doesn’t give a fuck. I wouldn’t either.
“Yes,” she hisses the word, the sound trailing off into a moan.
Kirill isn’t gentle. He isn’t soft. He gives her exactly what she needs.
And that is a rough fucking.
She’s barely able to hold onto the sheets, her body jolting forward every time he fills her. He uses his grip on her hips to pull her back toward him as he thrusts forward. It’s brutal.
And so fucking beautiful.
“Next time, we’ll all be taking you together. I can’t stand by and watch again,” Kirill admits, the growled words sounding like they’re being ripped from him.
“Oh,” she groans, the sound bordering on pain. “Kirill,” she keens, “I can’t.”
“You can,” he demands. “You will.”
“Show your husband what a good wife you are,” I rasp the words.
Something shatters inside of our woman—our wife—with my words.
Her body arches and she screams, the sound jagged and filled with painful and blissful pleasure. She comes undone, but Kirill doesn’t stop. He fucks her through her orgasm.
Just as it starts to wane, just as her featherlike soul floats back down, Kirill’s growl fills the room, and he slams into her. She tries to lurch forward, but his hold on her won’t allow it.
Her body twitches as Kirill’s seems to vibrate. When she slumps against the bed, his hands release her slowly. His touch becomes gentle instead of punishingly possessive.
We surround her, giving her our praise with whispered awe filled words, murmurs that will never be remembered, but will always be felt. She stretches like a cat seeking more, seeking comfort.
And we’re right there to give it to her. We’ll never stop.
CHAPTER 4
KIRILL
After taking a few days off and a long weekend, which wasn’t nearly long enough, being back at work and stuck behind my desk makes me want to rage and burn down the entire building. At least then I could easily excuse being at home with our wife instead. But here I am.
Without any more answers than I had a day ago, a week ago, fucking months ago.
Everything with Mikhail makes it feel like I’m chasing my tail and it’s been this way for far too long. With Oaklynn in our lives, the pressure for this to be done, for the man who is desperate for power in this city to be eradicated, has only increased.
It feels like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. The responsibility to keep my family alive has never felt this heavy before.
I know it’s because it matters so much more now, but that doesn’t make it any easier to manage.
My eyes are narrowed on Hendrix at the moment and have been since he’s stepped forward as the mouthpiece for his team today. It’s possible he hasn’t earned my ire, but I’m not going to admit that out loud. Not now. I need to direct this frustrationsomewhere, right or wrong, and he’s in my crosshairs.
“What you’re saying is that we still don’t have any idea where Mikhail is or what he’s doing?” The growled question feels like it comes from deep inside of me, from the beast I’ve been working hard to keep under control.
But now it’s virtually impossible.
Even the thought of our woman, of her softness and her strength, does nothing to soothe the feral creature inside of me. He wants out. Desperately.
Maybe the only solution to this problem is to take out the entire fucking city. Let it burn while keeping our woman safe.
Hendrix rubs his hand over his face, the frustration in his eyes matching my own. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, Kirill,” there’s a placating note in his tone which has my fingers twitching to reach for my gun.
I don’t.
